Error

Sometimes at night, I see their faces
I feel the traces they have left on my soul

The cloud comes almost daily now
A black fog that stops me almost in my tracks

I can go back, process all the information
And I don't see the error

Except the error is glaring
The error blew its last breath in my face

Young men all just trying to become
something others dared not

The error becomes death in the swamp for a black and gold
piece of cloth

I see their faces
I feel the traces they left on my soul